The Ryoka
by Kuroi-cho-tsuki-shiro
Summary: After weeks of imprisonment, a rescue attempt by Ichigo leaves Rukia with a glimpse of the conflicts outside her cell and a sense that her past is catching up with her. A series of shorts based on the story of Bleach from Rukia's point of view. 25
1. Chapter 1

Rukia climbed to her feet as a key turned in the lock to the Shrine of Penitence. By her count, there were still ten days until the execution and they'd already left her food and water today, which meant that she had an unexpected visitor. As the door opened, the afternoon sun shone full across the bridge to the shrine and she could see nothing but a slender silhouette that flew into the room and collided with her in a tight embrace.

"Rukia-_san!"_

She had stiffened instinctively, but now recognised the voice of Hanataro, the boy from Fourth Division who had been responsible for her care while she'd been sectioned in their barracks. Sensing her discomfort, he pulled back, but kept his hands on her shoulders: "Rukia-_san, _we've come here to rescue you."

"Oh," she managed. It seemed too easy, somehow. He had walked in through the front door. Where were the guards, she wondered. More importantly, where was she going to go if she left now with a kid from Fourth.

"Alright," said a voice from the door: "Let's take a look at this Rukia then. She had better be one hot chick if we've been through all this to save her." It belonged to a burly male whose silhouette all but filled the doorway. She felt a glimmer of hope that this was not all just the whim of Hanataro. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a way she could get out of here. And it didn't matter why or how they had come for her, the hope still tasted sweet.

Within her next breath, though, it was shattered.

"Greetings. My name is Ganju Shiba."

"Shiba," she said.

The man, who had stepped, smiling, into the shrine, froze as his eyes adjusted to the low light and he saw the object of his search. Rukia too had frozen. The walls, the floor, the peircing stream of sunlight; all seemed to fall away as she stared at a half-remembered face. A pitch black night. The pain of carrying that burden back through the darkness on uneven, rain-soaked paths. So many times, she had nearly broken under the weight, but the strain had been nothing compared to the agony of her loss. That sudden absence. His absence. And no-one else that she could blame. To come all that way in the dark and be greeted by a savage child clad in furs and leather. He had looked from her to the burden she carried. Back to her. The accusation in his eyes would haunt her forever. She had thought never to see it again and yet here was that same child, full-grown. She knew without his having to speak that she had not been and would never be forgiven.

"You!" he whispered: "You're the _shinigami _who murdered my brother."

"No!" Hanataro cried: "You've got the wrong person! Rukia-_san _would never do that!"

"They said he was killed by a hollow, but I saw the body! He'd taken a sword through the heart and his throat had been cut. What hollow does that?" He pointed at Rukia: "It was you! What hollow wields a _zanpakuto?"_

"That's impossible!"

"She told me she did it!" He rounded on Hanataro: "To my very face!"

The boy turned wide, disbelieving eyes towards Rukia. She had stepped back, retreating from the force of Ganju's emotions:

"It's true," she said: "I did murder Kaien-_dono."_

"And you deserve to die!"

"I will."

"It would be my pleasure to kill you."

"Then there is nothing to stop you," she said. Hanataro grasped her wrist:

"No!"

Ganju had started towards her and she braced herself, wondering idly at this turn of events. She felt light-headed, as if this wasn't real. This couldn't be the boy from all those years ago, the child who had run forward and embraced his brother's corpse, taking it from her arms and severing her final contact with Kaien Shiba. If she were to die at his hand, at least there would be symmetry. At least their would be balance.

It was Hanataro who came between them:

"Wait Ganju-_san!" _He put his hand flat against the big man's chest: "We made a promise to Ichigo. Whatever is between you and her, we promised Ichigo that we would rescue her."

"Ichigo?" she murmured, the name drifting slowly into the shadows of her consciousness and taking root. Ganju stared at the young boy who now stood so bravely between them and, with a curse, he stepped back:

"Damn you, Ichigo, that I gave you my word!"

"Come on, Rukia," said Hanataro, pulling at her wrist. But she swayed backwards, struck by an unseen force that came from the doorway. Barely a second later, Hanataro shuddered violently. The air was alive with the static force of a terrific _reiatsu. _Years had passed since Rukia had last felt her brother's powers unleashed. In her present state, they washed over her like wave after wave of a ferocious storm, pummelling her mind and her body.

"What the hell is that?" snarled Ganju.

"Byakuya _nii-sama," _she murmured. And then, mustering a little more strength: "Don't go out there."

Ganju scowled:

"Is there any other way out of this place."

"No."

"I have no intention of dying for you!" But Hanataro had taken two steps past him into the sunlight. The boy's hair and robes whipped in the violent gale of spiritual pressure as he turned towards Ganju:

"Save her, alright?" he said.

Rukia staggered forward, battling against a twin tide of despair and her body's shutting down against that terrifying force. Ganju and Hanataro, whose powers had not been leeched by the _seki-seki _stone over days and weeks, were still forced to take sharp, shallow breaths, as the pressure closed in over their lungs and hearts. She caught her weight against the edge of the door. Ganju was standing by the other lintel, regarding her with a mixture of hatred and disbelief. He, like her, had never expected them to encounter one another again. Yet, despite her present state, she had so many questions for him. So many things she needed to say too. But Byakuya's voice rung out above her thoughts:

"When I sensed a new presence at the Shrine of Penitence, I thought I should come up here and see which formidable soul-reaper was hiding their _reiatsu. _And now I find that it is no more than an insect. You are not worth this demonstration of my power."

"Damn you!" cried Ganju, launching himself out of the shrine. He crossed the distance between himself and Hanataro and threw the younger man backwards, out of the way. "Face me, you coward!" he roared at Byakuya, and the _shinigami, _wrong-footed by the appearance of a new rival, cocked his head on one side, reassessing the scene:

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ganju Shiba, of the esteemed Shiba clan!"

"Shiba." Byakuya's slate grey eyes registered the name: "Well then, that is different. I would not dishonour the Shiba family by holding back."

Rukia heard the cry break from her lips before she could stop herself:

"No! Please! No!"

Hanataro caught her around the waist as she ran onto the bridge and the two of them tumbled forward. Rukia felt a change in the air around her as Byakuya spoke the incantation that would release his sword:

"Scatter, Senbonsakura."

"No! _Nii-sama!"_

He was holding the blade vertically in front of his face and, as she watched, the tip shrived away and fluttered into the air. Another tiny sliver took flight. Then another and another as the sword itself dissolved, fragments of the blade riding on the wind, rising into the air like cherry blossoms, a thousand pale pink petals, condensing into a cloud above their heads.

"What is that?" murmured Ganju.

"A member of the Shiba clan might find a way to deflect a single blade, but what about a hundred thousand of them coming at you from every direction?"

"No!" Rukia screamed as the cloud streamed downwards with a noise like glass falling from a broken pane. Yet each one of those shards was controlled, animate. They struck together, some from above, some from the side. The soft sound of knives tearing into fabric. For an instant, he was frozen there, his hands raised as if to shield himself. It seemed each shard had pinned him to the air itself. And then, as she watched, his body burst open. Blood spluttered into the air. Rivers of it, coursing down his arms, his legs, his face. His white eyes filled with it and, slowly, he crumpled backwards.

Rukia was screaming. Hanataro was on his feet, his jaw slack in disbelief, but she was still on hands and knees, screaming and screaming for the little child who had run to his dead brother. Who had never forgiven her. And who never would. Her fingers dug into the wooden slats of the bridge, her hands balling into fists.

Byakuya had turned to look at her. There was a madness in his eyes, like nothing that she had seen there before. Throughout her life, he had weathered her every mood with the same passionless expression. Yet now she saw something else. Hatred. Yes. At her. Yes. But a hatred bordering on panic. His eyes were wide as he stepped backwards, swinging the hilt of the blade so that the cloud of cherry blossoms dove in the direction he pointed.

Towards her.

Hanataro screamed. Rukia threw her arms up.

But the attack never came.

"Enough." The voice was as familiar as it was gentle. Rukia lowered her hands and, instinctively, staggered to her feet, staring at the man who had clamped his hand around Byakuya's sword-arm.

Ukitake Juushiro was shorter than Byakuya and frail in appearance. His body had, for some time now, been ravaged by a wasting disease, but he had retained his rank amongst the _Gotei _Thirteen. Byakuya, she knew, would never act directly against his word.

Her heart seemed to start beating again, thudding against her chest as if it meant to drill its way out, so she barely heard Ukitake as he called out to her: "Hey, Kuchiki, how are you? We're doing our best to get you out of this situation!" He turned to Byakuya who had relaxed somewhat at his touch. The cherry blossoms hissed through the air, reforming the blade of his sword. Ukitake glanced down at it: "What is the meaning of this? Releasing your _zanpakuto _within the _sereitei."_

"Special wartime orders," answered Byakuya: "Precautions against the _ryoka."_

"Although it seems to me" – Ukitake began. But he was never able to finish because the static pressure in the air suddenly doubled. Tripled. Rukia clutched her chest, gasping. This _reiatsu _though, it was different. Yet familiar. It took her a moment to realise that it was coming from above and, when she looked up, she saw a silhouette descending from the sky. She reeled as she realised what it was and, indeed, who.

Ichigo landed on the bridge between Rukia and Ganju.

There was nothing of the boy she remembered. What she took to be a vast wing protruding from his back, folded gracefully into itself, becoming no more than a staff with a bird's head. A tool of some sort, she realised. _Kido-_based. The sort of thing Urahara might sell. At least, he looked, for want of a better word, more human now.

His _shihakusho _was torn at the shoulder and there were bandages beneath. He had been fighting then. His face, though unchanged, seemed harder, colder. His eyes roved over Ganju's body.

"Just one of the _ryoka," _said Byakuya, but the way he watched Ichigo betrayed his wariness. There was something new in this equation and Ukitake identified it at once:

"A _ryoka _with the power level of a captain?"

"So," said Byakuya.

"He looks so much like" –

"Yes, and he is just as rash and just as coarse."

Rukia let their words wash over her. In the storm-surge of _reiatsu, _she could pick out Ichigo's. She could have picked it out even if there had been a crowd of a hundred thousand around her, yet the same change that had marked his body, the hardening of his features, had marked his soul too. It felt dark. Familiar and warm, like an embrace, but one that threatened to smother. If she had ever doubted them before, she could no longer deny Urahara's words to her so many weeks ago: that this boy was dangerous. And powerful.

He turned away from Ganju and swept past her without so much as a glance.

"Are you okay, Hanataro?" he asked: "Sorry to have kept you waiting."

The same voice though, she thought. The same dumb conviction that he could make a difference here. Yet she felt her own conviction falter. A day ago, she had known him to be dead. Now, here he was alive. But different somehow. She couldn't protect him any more. And she wasn't even certain that he wanted or needed her protection now.

He strode back past her, drawing his blade, which was different too: an unhilted sword, thick as a butcher's knife, its pommel wrapped in bandages. He pointed it at Byakuya, as if to signal his intent, but looked back over his shoulder at her: "I've come here to rescue you, Rukia," he said. It was the first time he'd acknowledged her; the first time she'd heard him say her name since the day she'd left him bleeding to death in the street. He was alive. And he was stronger. Yet still, there were bandages around his chest. A plaster pressed across a cut beneath his left eye. When she looked harder, she could see fresh blood seeping from a half-tended wound on his shoulder. "What's with that face?" he snapped suddenly, any trace of chivalry obfuscated by annoyance: "I came here to save you; the least you can do is look happy!"

"I told you not to come after me! Why don't you ever listen to me? Now you're all cut up and it's my fault!"

"Hey!" he said, pointing a finger straight at her face: "I'm the rescuer here. The rescuee's opinion is hereby rendered obsolete!"

"What? What the hell kind of tyrannical rescue attempt is this anyway?"

"Shut up!"

"I just said" -

"See this?" He stuck his tongue out at her.

"You know what? You – you" – The words wouldn't come. He was standing there, sword in one hand, his other hand pulling down the lower lid of his left eye as he made faces at her. "You – you haven't changed at all," she said wonderingly.

His left hand dropped to his side:

"No, I guess not."

Behind them, Byakuya cleared his throat:

"Are you finished?"

"Yes. Thanks for waiting, Byakuya Kuchiki." Ichigo turned towards Rukia's brother, his gaze suddenly clear and hawkish.

"I congratulate you on being able to remember my name."

"Why don't we finish what we started."

Rukia put a restraining hand on Ichigo's arm:

"Please don't. You can't win against him."

"I've grown stronger."

I know, she wanted to say. But not that strong. You don't know what he is.

The wildness she had seen in her brother's eyes had frightened her. He had meant to kill her, she knew.

"I've run out of patience, Boy!" called Byakuya and his silhouette suddenly blurred. Instinctively, Rukia stepped back, but Ichigo only shifted slightly and raised his arm. There was a ringing crash as his sword intercepted Byakuya's, the _shinigami's _speed having made him seem briefly to have disappeared altogether: _shunpo. _It was the same technique that Byakuya had used to fell Ichigo in the real world. Now, the human boy grinned at his opponent over the blade, his eyes murderous:

"I see you, Byakuya Kuchiki."Surprise registered on the _shinigami's _face. "I'm a little faster now."

"Not fast enough." Byakuya stepped back, the usual empty cold returning to his eyes: "Scatter" – he began, but he never finished the sword incantation because a woman materialised suddenly behind him. She too had used _shunpo _to arrive unnoticed and her first act, completed too swiftly for any of them to see it, was to bind Byakuya's sword in a length of ribbon. It prevented the sword's fragmentation, and hence its release.

"Hello, Byakuya-boy," she said, in a voice like melting cream. The _shinigami _scowled.

"Yoruichi-_sama!" _cried Ichigo and, in the same instant, Ukitake:

"Lady Yoruichi!"

Rukia stared.

She looked barely older than Byakuya, but this Yoruichi was powerful, perhaps more powerful than her brother. She was dressed in a bodysuit and jacket, apparently designed to allow freedom of movement, along with a certain nod towards sensuality. Not the clothes of a _shinigami. _All of that, however, was secondary to the fact that she had just addressed Byakuya as 'boy.'

"Ichigo, we're leaving," she said.

"We're not leaving without Rukia. I came here to save her."

"You cannot fight him. Not yet."

"What are you talking about?" Ichigo snapped, but his words were redundant as Byakuya lunged for the woman without warning. She sprang away and they both blurred before Rukia's eyes. Moving much too fast for her to see, both figures were a shimmer of colour in the air above the bridge. Then she heard the woman gasp and, all at once, she and Byakuya were standing in the middle of the bridge, the woman crouched fearlessly on the railing. For a moment, it looked as if she had taken a blow, but, on closer inspection, it became clear that she was holding the tip of Byakuya's sword between two fingers. She grinned. Extraordinarily beautiful. Her skin was dark; her eyes, an irridescent yellow. In the sunlight, the sheen of her hair was purple:

"Did you really think you could catch me, Byakuya-boy?" With that, her outline blurred once more.

Ichigo, who seemed able to follow her movements though Rukia could not, sprung forward. An instant later, his head snapped backwards. His eyes rolled up. Instead of catching his balance, his legs merely folded beneath him and he collapsed forward into the woman's arms. Yoruichi. Yoruichi-_sama, _he had called her.

"What did you do?" Ukitake called from the far end of the bridge. He and Byakuya were standing together now, both watching the woman, warily. But she didn't answer. She had hefted Ichigo's now-lifeless form onto her shoulder, returning his sword to its sheath on his back. Now she sprang onto the railing as if his weight was nothing to her and, in the light of her silence, Ukitake answered his own question: "Ah. A sedative. You managed to deposit it in his wound as he came at you. Clever. You intend to keep him unconscious until he is healed?"

"It won't do you any good," Byakuya said. The woman turned to him with her yellow, laughing eyes:

"Give me three days, Kuchiki. Three days is all I need with him." With that, she leapt into the air and onto a nearby abuttment where she stood, surveying the scene below. The two captains. She had not once glanced at Rukia or Hanataro.

"Three days?" growled Byakuya: "What are you going to do in three days, Bitch?"

"Why don't you come and see? If you can catch me, Boy! If you can catch me! They don't call me the goddess of _shunpo _for nothing, you know." And with that, she disappeared, becoming no more than a shifting mirage in the air.

Rukia swayed. It seemed she had been holding her breath for a very long time, Ganju's body still lay, in bloody tatters, on the bridge. Ukitake still stood watching. And her brother? He had turned his back on them, his white _haori _fanning out as he strode away and, for the first time in her life, she heard him give Ukitake an order:

"Clear up this mess, Captain. I have no more business here."

Ukitake stared after him, surprised, then looked back at Rukia. Their eyes met. And the sympathy in his was terrible to see. But it seemed to her that she was staring at him through a long tunnel, and that tunnel was closing in. She blinked, but the sensation only worsened into a pain. A nail driven into the base of her skull. She fell forward:

"Rukia-_san! _Rukia-_san!"_

Hanataro's embrace only seemed to tug her deeper into the dark. She was struck by how awkward and heavy her body had become as he lifted her from where she'd collapsed.

"Poor Rukia," she heard Ukitake say: "How long has she been imprisoned here? The _seki-seki _drains _reiatsu. _It's no wonder she couldn't stand up to the spiritual pressure of Kuchiki." His words faded into a drift of shadow and when she faded back in, Hanataro's grip on her had tightened:

"No! I won't let you!" he was shouting.

"It's an order. It's only until we can find a way to organise her release on official grounds."

"There isn't enough time!"

"There will have to be. Hanataro."

She felt herself passed into someone else's arms and carried into the shadow of the shrine. The _seki-seki _fell like a veil across her senses.

"She's lost weight," said the man who carried her. One of the Third Seats from her squad. He laid her down on the stone floor: "Hold on, Kuchiki. Just a little more time. Then we'll get you out of here."

And then her body was laid out on the cold stone and his footsteps trailed away from her. She heard the doors close. The key was turned in the lock.

She was still alone. She was still to die. Only now she had questions. So many questions. And only ten days.


	2. Chapter 2

**If you enjoyed this story, please check my profile page for the next one.**

**If I have put this message up it means that the story will continue in a separate installment, which I upload to my profile immediately after posting this**

**There are quite a few one-shots in the upcoming series. I hope you don't mind. It's just the way I originally wrote it before I knew I was going to upload it all. (I blame Kaien; for some reason, he seems to have made me write one-shots)!**

**All my thanks and appreciation to regular readers:**

**Shadewolf7, Truantpony, ForbiddenME, Pinky357, Immortal Vows, Chellythemadhatter, Insomniatic95, Sallythedestroyerofworlds23, UNTensaZangetsu, XDark FangsX, Superlynx, Ichigo(dot)forever(dot)love, Ennaalemap, Makaykay15, Kaze05, Splash into Forever, War90, Yellowwomanonthebrink, Bakane, Night Flower, Hallmarktrinity, Tiffany Park and Snowcrystals.**

**And everyone else who is reading and reviewing. THANK YOU!**


End file.
